


Don't Play With Hallucinatory Drugs, Kids

by kitmarlowed



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: Gen, To be fair the character is dead at the beginning, angst filled conversations with dead people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitmarlowed/pseuds/kitmarlowed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there are two pictures.</p>
<p>One of them is of her. She doesn’t know where he got this photo. She’s smiling, but not, she thinks, for him. If it were for him it would be a true smile, this one she knows to be fake. Manufactured for Daniel Grayson. He capped it from the whalecam. </p>
<p>God she misses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Play With Hallucinatory Drugs, Kids

He’d never told her his choice, buried or cremated. He laughed at her a couple of times and, ‘cryogenically frozen, for posterity, kitten’. She’d told him that she wanted to be burnt, her ashes scattered somewhere away, far away. He’d smiled at her then, ‘You aren’t going to die, Ems. Not for a while longer.’   
  
She’d told him that she would, before him at least.  
  
She’s never felt so wrong before.  
  
‘Did he have a will?’ some voice, someone’s voice, asking her stupid questions and expecting civil answers.  
  
‘He’s a billionaire, you numbskull, of course he has!’ But he doesn’t have. He had.   
  
He isn’t a billionaire.  
  
He was.  
  
The guy just looks at her, breaking down all over the place, a soft apology written on his face and he stands with his hands up. Surrender. ‘Do you know where, miss?’  
  
She opens her mouth, to yell, to scream. ‘No. I don’t. I’m sorry.’ She looks at the door. ‘Can - Can I - see him? Please?’  
  
The man nods and lets her through.   
  
There’s a sheet over him. Up over his head. White, pure. Like he was for the most part. But she can smell the blood.   
  
Will-Guy tells her not to draw the sheet further than his neck. Punctured lungs are invasive to fix, he says, haven’t closed him up yet.   
  
He’s tactless, but she can’t bring herself to care. Draws back the shroud to his shoulders and drops it.   
  
There are only two scratches on his face. He must have brought his arms up to protect his eyes - closed now - and it worked. He’s beautiful, in death. Morose, serene. Not smiling, sneering laughing, crying. Blank.   
  
It’s so wrong.   
  
She turns her face away. There’s his wallet ‘his personal belongings that were on his person at the crash scene’, she takes it up. There’s no cash in it. Just credit cards, some business ones and in a little pocket - tucked away from prying eyes, like hers -  there are two pictures.   
  
One of them is of her. She doesn’t know where he got this photo. She’s smiling, but not, she thinks, for him. If it were for him it would be a true smile, this one she knows to be fake. Manufactured for Daniel Grayson. He capped it from the whalecam.   
  
God, she misses him.   
  
He’s been dead for about an hour but she misses him like it’s already been years. Like she’s already old and withered, standing at his graveside like she has been since he died. She looks down at him again and shuts her eyes to stop the tears.  
  
Numbly, not really paying attention she draws the shroud back over his head and leaves the room. Photo still clasped in her hand.   
  
His NY apartment opens for her, in disarray. Not from anything sinister, she’s checked, but he must have been in a rush to leave. Trying to find something. It’s nearing night now, through the windows she sees the darkness creep. She will not leave. Not tonight (not ever).  
  
His bed hasn’t been made, the sheets are all over the place. She just crawls into the middle of them and curls up.  
  
He’s sent her back in time with this. She’s back to being that scared little Amanda that loved so frighteningly dearly and lost so fucking fast. She’s makeup running down her cheeks in salt water, she’s shoulders shaking with the force of sobs. She’s the village watching the water pour after the dam breaks. She doesn’t want to be this.  
  
 _‘ Then don’t be. ’ _  
  
‘Nolan?’  
  
‘ _ Yes? ’_  
  
‘Where are you?’  
  
‘ _I don’t know, kitten_. ’ There’s a shift in the air, she isn’t sure how she felt it, and then he’s next to her.  
  
Only he’s not. She reaches for him and her hand just fades straight through.  
  
‘I’m dreaming.’ she murmurs.  
  
‘ _ You aren’t. I’d know if you were sleeping. You could touch me if it was a dream. And you can’t touch me right now. Sucks to be you _ .’ Not really Nolan gives her a smile. He’s a ghost, he has to be, or some kind of addled hallucination. Grief might just have broken her.  
  
‘Then I want to dream. I want to dream forever, if it will keep you here.’  
  
‘ _Such emotion, Ems._ ’ He’s by the window now and she can barely see him.  ‘ _You never wanted me around when I was living_.’  
  
‘That was a mistake, Nolan. If I’d known...’  
  
‘ _If you’d known you only had a limited time with me you’d have done more about it? Is that it! Forgive me if I don’t feel anything to respond to that!’_ _  
_  
She rushes to him, not him, wants to grab his shoulders and whirl him to face her. ‘That isn’t it, Nolan! I saw the picture, of me!, that you kept in your wallet. I was smiling, not for you - it was a fake smile. If it was for you it would have been real. you probably couldn’t tell the difference. If I’d known you cared that much for me I’d have smiled for you more often.’   
  
Nolan relaxes and turns to her.  
  
‘ _I knew it wasn’t real, kitten. But it was close - the closest I could believe I’d ever get so I kept it. A dirty little secret because I always loved you_.’ It rips from him like a plea. Harsh and unremitting.  
  
‘You-’  
  
‘ _I wanted you with Jack because I could see that somewhere a memory of you loved a memory of him - more than the inky shadow of you loved Daniel Grayson. I felt that I could never have you, never keep you safe but jack Porter could. He would have done! if you’d have given up your revenge. But you never would give that up, Amanda, and I saw everyone, yourself included, suffer for that. I was always there, honey. How can you not have seen that?_ ’  
  
Easily. She didn’t want to see it.   
  
‘I just thought-’  
 _  
‘ __ You just thought that I was helping you because your father wanted me to? Your father wanted you to know the truth, to move on and forgive! If I was ever truly loyal to your father's memory I would have never helped you. I should have never helped you.’_  
  
‘If you feel so strongly about how wrong I am, why are you here? huh? Just to rub this in?’  
  
Nolan is silent.   
  
‘Answer me!’ she yells.  
  
‘ _ I can’t leave __._ ’   
  
‘What?’  
  
‘ _ I can’t leave, Amanda-’_  
  
‘Stop calling me that-’  
  
 _‘It’s your name. I can’t leave. You’re keeping me here. And I wish you’d stop. I’m dead, Amanda, and I’d like to leave this place now.’  
_   
‘Nolan-’  
  
‘ _My lawyer has my will. Everything in it is left to you. You own all of the company now. There are people there who will keep NolCorp running and producing, you’ll just hold the paperwork. I want to be buried, somewhere nice. And my last wish, is for you to stop. Stop this, all of this, find a guy, settle down. Find your mom if you think it’ll give you peace but if now just stop. please. And Amanda, stop mourning me. I lived my life, my death was accidental, and I am happy to go.’_  
  
‘ I don’t know if I can stop mourning you.’  
 _  
‘Then just remember me. You’re keeping me here, kitten. Here is where I don’t want to be.’_   
  
‘I’m so sorry, Nolan. For everything I’ve done to hurt you.’  
  
‘ _ I know.’_  
  
‘I love you, too.’  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know.


End file.
